.Prologue.
Keep in mind that I'm not an expert on Dissociative Identity Disorder (more commonly known as split personality disorder or multiple personality disorder). In fact, the case in this fic is probably exaggerated a bit so it's easier to see when an identity change is taking place. I don't own South Park or any of its characters. ----------
Holding this in mind
That if we fall, we all fall
And we fall alone
-Attack by System of a Down
"We're constantly fighting for control."
Dr. Gregory Yardale nodded as he jotted down a few more notes onto his clipboard. I discreetly tried to peek at his writings, but gave up after deciding that it was probably impossible to read his chicken scratching anyway. He looked up with his tired blue eyes and brush back a strand of blond hair that fell onto his forehead.
"Who do you feel is winning?"
I adjusted my blue beanie and gave him a long look. Dr. Yardale kept eye contact and waited patiently for an answer while I thought of whether to feed him the same crap I have been for months or to tell him the truth - that I was getting worse. I smiled and decided to stick with the former.
"I hardly hear him anymore."
The young psychologist looked unconvinced, but didn't press further. He frowned and wrote a bit more on his clipboard before looking up at me again and finally capping his pen. I glanced at the clock, recognizing his usual signal that the session was over. However, I noticed that there was at least twenty minutes left. I looked back at the blond with a raised eyebrow.
"Okay then, Stan, no clipboard. No notes. Just me. What's really going on?" Gregory held the side of his face in his hand and waited. I wasn't buying it. No matter what he promised, we both knew that he would eventually have to report back to my parents and I would be back at square one. My eyes narrowed as I felt a familiar wave of nausea wash over me and I tried to hold back what was about to happen.
OhgodnotnownononoPLEASE.
Dr. Yardale's eyebrows seemed to reach his hairline as he saw me clench my fists and narrow my eyes. I tried to hide the pressure, but something pushed through my brain with such force that my head hurt as a result of trying to suppress what was inevitable. After what seemed like a lifetime, I let go a breath I hadn't known I was holding and felt myself slip away.
Silence.
"Stan, are you alright?" Gregory looked on with concern and spoke in a low voice. He waited for a response and promptly received a harsh glare paired off with a raised middle finger. Dr. Yardale smiled wryly, for his fears were confirmed. Nothing he was doing was working. The boy was lying when he said he was getting better - he only needed better help.
"Pleasure to see you again, Craig." The blond said sarcastically, pretending to tip his hat.
The dark-haired boy smirked and slumped in his chair.
"Pleasure's all mine."
Gregory shook his head and grabbed his clipboard again. "I'm going to have to ask you to let Stan have control again. We're not finished with his session."
Craig scowled and rose to his feet, eyes dangerously narrowed at the psychologist.
"Forget it. You fuckers had better stop trying to get rid of me."
"Or...?" Dr. Yardale raised a blond eyebrow, almost challenging him. Craig allowed a small humorless smile to slip onto his face.
"Or maybe I won't let Stan back at all." Gregory rolled his eyes and stood, ushering Craig out the door. They both knew it was pointless to stay until the end of the session. Nobody got anywhere when Craig was around. The older male sighed to himself, feeling like he was failing at his job.
It had been six years so far. And it didn't seem like Craig was leaving anytime soon.